A Time to Hope
by stoneygem
Summary: Written for the Easter ficlet exchange Spring is time for new beginnings, a time when hope for the future is the strongest...CJ, prePD2


A/N: I wrote this as my offer for our Easter Ficlet exchange and this one was meant for Twisted-Coil. I wanted to try out a slightly different timeframe for the whole Easter business with our couple and ended up doing this.

Of course, I do not own any of this...unfortunately not even the beautiful Goethe-poem quoted here, though I desperately wish I did.

Finally, all that is left to say is...enjoy!

**A time to hope...**

It was such a beautiful evening, this Easter Monday, and he was glad of the quiet it finally provided. Finally, he had some time to himself.

Not that he minded being kept busy, in fact he was quite fond of the action, but after the last two weeks, he could really do with some peace. Meandering through the elaborate gardens of the palace, it struck him again how much he loved this place.

Though, if he was perfectly honest, he loved this place because of her. Only because of her. She was the light of his existence – his angel. She made his day begin and she made it end. His first thoughts in the morning would be of her and the last when he closed his eyes again. Only because of her did he willingly endure the strains of the Easter week.

Genovia, being the traditional country, had all sorts of old customs to observe during the holiday. From the processions over the masses to the charity events. Of course, the royal family had to attend them all.

He snorted, trust Clarisse not to skip a single one, always stating it was a duty. It wasn't a duty, he knew that much. She simply loved the holiday. With all its traditions. Even if it forced her to be on her feet or knees respectively an entire week.

Joseph took a deep breath, enjoying the balmy spring air. By now he had made it to the gazebo. Sitting down on one of the benches, he let his gaze travel over the grounds, yet he didn't see any of the beauties around him. His mind was entirely focussed on the beauty he knew to be behind one of those grand windows.

She would be preparing for the final event of the spring celebrations tonight. The last ball of the spring festival. Before it could start however they would have to suffer through the other tradition of spring festival. As it was custom in Genovia, there was always the Wishing Ceremony before the people would start to dance at balls or around bonfires. In grand ceremonies, people would write down their biggest wish or hope for the year, drop the paper into a sack which would be burned in the bonfires, so the wishes could rise up to heaven.

In all those many years, Joseph had never really liked this tradition. Everybody was expected to write something down, yet he had never known what to wish for. He actually had everything.

Except for one thing.

Her.

She, who would look so incredibly stunning tonight. He had no doubt about that. She, who would be charm personified tonight. She, who would feel…

The tolling of the small bell in the garden chapel shook him out of his reverie.

In a few minutes he would have to rise and prepare as well. Duty was duty after all. Yet, all he could think of was the chances this evening would give him. To see her smile at him. To hold her in his arms while dancing. To have his breath taken away by the gorgeous ball gown she wore – he knew her to wear for his eyes only.

He felt his heart swell. It seemed as if he was in this condition constantly since she had told him. Since her kiss.

"I think, I am quite warm now. I do believe a little bit of fresh air is in order. Joseph?"

He only nodded in reply.

The couple easily made its way through the dancing guests. Despite the quietness of their retirement, people would always recognise and make way for them. There was simply too much about this couple. They looked stunning together. He in his black cut, handsome and mysterious – she in white with gold and green, floating and angelic.

Nothing was said. No words were necessary. Everybody could see it.

Yet, no word was spoken, not even in a whisper. There was too much at stake.

"Are you certain you don't need a coat? One of the maids…"

"No Joseph, I am really quite warm, thank you."

He eyed her carefully, trying to gauge the truth of her statement. Her dress was stunning, he could no more deny this and than stop breathing. Yet the sleeveless, shoulder-free chiffon could by no means keep her warm.

A thought came unbidden and powerful. Maybe, if she was cold, he would need to warm her? He swallowed convulsively at the thought. The few dances they had shared had done nothing for his control. To hold her so tight against him, feel her curves mould against his frame. Her hand in his. Her head against his chest so that he could bury his face in her hair and smell her sweet scent.

He knew her perfume, it was his favourite, sweet and heady, yet completely innocent. Just like her.

There was no chance she could have missed his very physical reaction and in a way he feared this little outing would lead to a…

"You are awfully quiet tonight." She said eyeing him from under lowered lashes. "Is the company so boring or are you somewhere else entirely?"

He raised an eyebrow. Not so much at her question but the manner in which it was spoken. If he didn't know better… But of course, he knew better.

Foregoing an answer Joseph only extended his arm and pointed, steering her towards the gazebo. Whatever she had in mind, the gazebo would be the safest place in the gardens.

She nodded in agreement and quickened her pace, forcing him to follow her. Or was it to give him the opportunity? When dancing with and watching her he had not realized just how low her dress went at the back. Even in the dim light he could almost start counting her freckles…

Good Lord, what had gotten into him. Counting her freckles, was he out of his mind?

Coming to an abrupt halt, he realized that they had reached their destination and that he had almost literally run into her. Even at the distance they retained he found himself staring at her. "Gods, don't look there. Look at something else, man. Anything else!" he chastised himself being drawn entirely to the nice view her décolleté provided.

He caught her shaking her head. "Joseph, Joseph," she laughed, "if I didn't know better, I would say you are lost."

"Yes, lost in you." He retorted before thinking.

Her eyes widened, her posture stiffened and her face drained of any colour.

"I… I…I am so sorry, Clarisse. I mean, 'Your Majesty'" he tried to put the emphasis on her title. "I was completely out of line. I apologize for my …. Please forget I ever said anything."

Still she didn't move and stared at him with wide eyes.

He closed his own, cursing his quick tongue, cursing her for being so irresistible, cursing the day for having happened. Cursed whatever deities existed for having created him. He had blown it. So utterly and completely blown it. She was his queen, for goodness sake. His monarch. And if that wasn't enough, she was his employer! He should really congratulate himself. The big man – Joseph – Mr. Cool! – Mr. Security – Mr. First-Class idiot.

She wasn't ready for this. She would never be ready for this. She had made it quite clear almost five years ago. She was a widow. She was a queen. She would never be anything else and he would do himself good to remember this.

Still, she had not uttered a word. To make things worse, by now she was visibly shaking. If from the cold or rage, he couldn't really tell.

"Your Majesty, I can only say it again: Please accept my sincerest apologies. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable in any way."

Finally, she held her hand up to stop his words. Joseph closed his eyes and tried to brace himself for the dismissal that would certainly follow.

"When you got lost, did you find me there?"

"I beg your pardon?"

A tremulous smile flitted over her face. "Joseph, when you got lost in me as you say, did you find ME," she emphasised the word and even pointed at her self, "Clarisse, anywhere there?"

His face was still a mask of confusion. However, it only seemed to boast her courage. Her smile broadened and she stepped even closer and ran the tip of her finger along his jaw.

He closed his eyes and swallowed again, trying with all his might to suppress the physical reaction her nearness caused. Yet the movement of her finger over his skin didn't stop. With great effort, he opened his eyes again and found her staring at him intently. He took hold of her moving hand and pressed a tender kiss to its back, keeping his gaze firmly locked with hers.

And finally, he saw. And he knew…

"I never looked for anybody else. You are all I ever wanted to find."

"And did you?" her vice had been reduced to a whisper as she stepped even closer.

„_In a thousand different forms you may hide yourself  
but all the same, my best-beloved, I will recognize you;  
you may shroud yourself with magic veils  
but all the same, my ubiquitous one, I will recognize you."__i_

There were tears in her eyes as her lips silently joined him in quoting the stanza of this poem. He smiled at her, mimicking the gesture of running a finger tenderly over her profile.

"I found you – those sparkling eyes I drown in all the time, this small hint of mischief hiding underneath the official mask, this scent I could find among hundreds." Suddenly feeling brave, he pulled her close. "I will always find you, Clarisse. You are with me all the time. I have you in my heart. And in my soul as well. You are everywhere for me."

With his index finger he tilted he face towards his and after what seemed like an eternity to her covered her lips with his own.

Floating, she was floating in a sea of pleasure. She was drifting in a world where everything was warm and bright and peaceful. The happiness she felt spread from her toes up into the ends of her hair. Her world was a happy haze centering on where her mouth met his. How soft and tender his touch was. How warm and entrancing his taste. Gods, only this one short touch and she was addicted. She wanted more of this. So much more.

If heaven had a place on earth, he had found it. He had dreamed how her lips would feel, but he never imagined them to be so soft. He had fantasised, but he had never imagined how sweet her taste would be. Of course, he had dreamed how her body would feel pressed against his in a tender or passionate embrace, but his dreams had not prepared him for this. Naturally, he had imagined that she would respond to his kiss, but as her arms snaked around his neck to pull him impossibly closer, he knew he had been wrong. He never wanted this to end. Ever.

Only the desperate need for air made them finally break apart. Yet they stayed in the embrace of their arms. There was simply no chance they could let go of each other.

Overwhelmed with wonderment himself, Joseph pulled back slightly. His gaze was met by hers and for the uncounted time in his life he found himself struck by her sheer beauty.

No, this was not true.

Never had she been so beautiful to him. Her sparkling, over-bright eyes were for him, the light flush of her skin was for him and because of him. Her swollen lips were because of him. She was beautiful for him.

"You are so beautiful, Clarisse." He whispered in awe.

She smiled though a blush crept over her features. "I… I…"

"What is it?"

"I… I had hoped, you would like it."

"For me?" he asked surprised.

She only nodded. "I wanted you to find me."

He couldn't help himself; almost roughly he pulled her against him tightening his hold on her. "Gods Clarisse, I love…"

She stopped his words, placing her finger over his mouth. "Don't say it, Joseph. Not yet."

He heard the loudly spoken words as well. They, whoever they were, were not in closest proximity of the gazebo, but it was only a question of time until somebody came looking for them. To be found like this, was impossible. The scandal unthinkable. She was the Queen, he her Head of Security.

It was not the time for this. Not yet.

But in a matter of months this might change. Genovia would soon have another queen and then…maybe…

He caught her smiling mischievously at him and before he could wonder, she had pulled his head down for another kiss, incomparably headier than the first one. The tantalizing beginning quickly escalated into a passionate encounter as her tongue started to run over his lips demanding entrance. Pressing her even closer after the initial meeting of their tongues, he happily explored her mouth, relishing in her taste – so sweet – and her willingness – no, her demand.

If they were caught, well, he didn't give a damn.

It was she who broke off their passionate kiss. Breathing heavily, her eyes still overly bright, she tenderly cupped his cheek with her gloved hand. "This was for the road." She said quietly, a hint of mischief in her voice, turned on her heel and 'hastened' into the palace. Leaving him to…

He still didn't know exactly how he had gotten to his own room that night. Thankfully he had not come across anybody. If they had seen him, they would have known immediately and it would not have been due to the lipstick that she had left on the corners of his mouth. He was certain that he must have been glowing. Certainly floating. He still felt like he was walking on air.

Rising from the marble bench, Joseph headed towards the palace. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, he once again encountered another reason for the perma-grin he seemed to be sporting.

The key.

After returning from church yesterday, he had found a small brightly coloured and ornamented metal egg on the desk in his room. From habit he had been weary about it, but finally decided to be a man and open the egg.

Its content had made him sit down heavily on the chair by the desk.

It was an old key and an elaborate one at that. He had turned again and again trying to understand what this key was supposed to mean. But when he had read the card, he had almost wept. Her handwriting, of course, he would have recognised it anywhere.

"_They say that to everything there is a season. There is a time to build up and a time to break down. A time to sow and a time to harvest. And there is also a time to hope and a time to love._

_ Our time to love has not come yet, but we have our time to hope that it will come soon. _

_ This is not the key to my heart, because you have found it long ago. This is indeed the key to a very real door which I cannot yet open for you. It is our time to hope that the moment you can use this key will come soon._

_ Until this moment comes, I hold the knowledge that I cannot hide in a thousand different forms to my heart._

_ Clarisse."_

Since then, this key was his most treasured position. He did not know when its time would come. In fact, he did not know if its time to be used would ever come, but this was Easter Monday and the Wishing Ceremony was still to be held.

This year, he indeed had a wish to be placed among those thousands.

He wished that his time to hope would soon make way for the time to love.

* * *

i J. W. v. Goethe, West-Östlicher Divan, Book Suleika

Please, people, let me know what you think. Thank you.


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